


And They Lived Happily Ever After.

by Jedaqia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedaqia/pseuds/Jedaqia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock died. Sherlock came back. A short fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Lived Happily Ever After.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Johnlock. So I start with something simple and hopefully my muse came back and help me write something longer and better. Non beta-ed & English not my first language. Apologies.

He met Sherlock Holmes at Barts.

He became Sherlock’s flatmate, his blogger, his best friend, his somewhat assistant, chasing criminals around London.

Then Sherlock died.

And a part of John Watson died with him.

He grew his mustache. He met Mary Morstan. She makes his life tolerable and his suicidal mind quite. He went back to using his walking cane.

Then Sherlock came back. After three years. After 38 awkward sessions with his therapist. After 12 times tangling in bed with Mary and dreaming of his dead flatmate the same nights. After punching Mycroft one time. After nearly shagging three guys that were tall, pale with black curly hair. After 101 times sobbing at Sherlock apparently empty grave.

Sherlock came back. Stood there silently at their previous 221B flat, now not as cluttered as before. Impossibly thinner. Shorter hair. A bit tanned. And there was a small smile on his lips.

Sherlock was actually anxious. But John thought he looked smug.

He punched Sherlock. Managed to deliver three punches before Sherlock pinned him down on the dusty carpeted floor.

He heard Sherlock. Heard him trying to calm the furor that was John Watson.

But John, he had no intention on listening. So he kissed Sherlock to shut him up. And Sherlock kissed him back. Then he dragged John to his recently reoccupied bedroom and fucked the doctor out of his mind.

John cried in both pleasure and pain. When it was done, he pushed Sherlock face down onto the bed and plowed into the consulting detective ass while his own still dripping with cum. The taller man had cried out. John was pretty sure it was a combination of ecstasy and agony.

And they didn’t stop that night; tearing each other to pieces, putting each other back together again. Humiliating and worshiping. Hating and loving. Mashed in a tangle of limbs, slicked skin and hard cocks. Decimating every lies between them all those years.

*******

“So…” John listened to Sherlock's heartbeats as he rested his head on sweat cum soaked lean chest.

“So?”

“You’re back. For good?”

“For good.” Sherlock trailed his fingers along John’s spine. Cataloging the protruding bones. Knowing that John had lost some weight. Understanding that John needs to change his diet. Go back to when there were biscuits and tea, Chinese takeaways, leftover risotto and dinner at Angelo’s with vanilla scented candle lights.

“It would not be the same.”

“Hmmm…?”

“There’s Mary.”

“She’s having second thoughts about you.”

“She is?”

“Told her best friend that you called my name when you fucked her.”

There was silent. But Sherlock didn’t mind. He was enjoying the feel of John Watson’s body curling around him. Other things were dull. Irrelevant. To be deleted when morning comes. And that would be in about two hours time.

“I should be honest with her.”

“You should.”

“I should break up with her.”

“You should.”

“I should fuck you again until you stop being an arrogant bastard.”

“You should.”

******

So John did. Twice. Until Sherlock became a pliant silent mess on the equally messy bed. And before he actually succumbed into post coital bliss, John took a photo of the face down, dozing dark haired detective with his legs spread and his ass deliciously creamed.

He sent the photo to Mycroft with a heartfelt fuck you.

Mycroft never replied.

******

And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
